Evil Dead
by Kiki Hera Shadows
Summary: When Tony heard that his ex-boyfriend had almost died from an OD, he had promised his highschool friends to help him quit cold turkey. Tony hadn't seen Loki, since they broke up seven years ago. He allowed them to use a cabin in the middle of the woods that belonged to his father, but little did he know the horrors that plagued there, or the evil about to be released.
1. Prologue

**This fanfiction is based off the new movie _Evil Dead. _**

**__The story will obviously be a bit different than the movie, but the concept is the same. **

**I don't own anything. Everything belongs to their rightful owners.**

* * *

**Evil Dead**

**Prologue**

Gregory Stark wanted nothing more than to lie down in the cold mud and pretend that everything that was happening was just one big nightmare. His body throbbed in agony, screaming at him to stop running; to rest—he needed to rest. Just for a second and maybe it'll all be alright. But he couldn't rest. If he stopped running they would find him. They would kill him. He was sure of it.

He had been running through these woods for what felt like hours, maybe days. Everything seemed exactly the same, and no matter where he turned, no matter how far he ran, it was never enough. Gregory could hear them coming after him; could hear their footsteps behind him, so he ran faster, pushing his exhausted body to the limit, until he just couldn't run anymore.

Gregory fell on his knees, panting hard and gripping a tree for support, his bloodied fingers digging into the trunk of the tree and tearing out pieces of wood.

That's when he heard a twig snap from behind him. Twisting his head to see behind him, Gregory pushed his body up and tried to steady himself. A tall man wearing a dirty gray suit stood a couple yards away, holding a double barrel shotgun at the ground; his mud smeared face masked him, making him almost unrecognizable. The man didn't move-only stared at him with piercing blue eyes, his dirty blonde hair matted together from the dirt and rain; his blond beard looked almost black, the bloodied make shift eye patch couldn't hide the fact that someone had torn out his eye.

Taking a step back, Gregory used the tree to block the man from his line of view, and then turned around-

-only to smack his face into the strong chest of another unknown man. He gasped and backed away quickly, intending to run from the man, but he was grabbed from behind and pushed to the ground. The man kept him pinned, pressing his larger body on Gregory, and in the process, pushing his knee into Gregory's open knife wounds, making the smaller teen cry out in agony.

"Knock the bitch out!" the man holding him screamed as the man with the shotgun walked closer to them. Gregory looked up at him, his wide blue eyes wide with fear and fatigue.

"Please no-"

The man raised the shotgun, slamming the butt of the gun against Gregory's forehead. The teen's head snapped back, his blue eyes rolled into the back of his head as darkness took a hold of him.

* * *

Gregory began to wake up slowly, the pain in his head worse than it was before. He didn't know where he was, or what had happened. His vision swam, and it took him a while to realize that something covered his head, preventing him from seeing anything; only shadows. His whole body felt hot from the sheer pain of his wounds, and it was hard to tell if he was standing or sitting; his weak legs barely supported him.

"H-Hello...?" Gregory weakly called out, his voice sounded as if it was being forced through broken glass. He tried to move his hands, only to realize that they were bound behind his back with thick iron chains. His heart began to pound quickly in his chest as panic rose from the pit of his stomach.

"Hello? Is anyone there? I just want to go home..." Gregory cried softly, the chain biting painfully into his wrist as he continues to struggle against it.

He saw a shadow move in front of his, a woman from what he could see. She was short and heavy, and spoke a language he couldn't understand.

"Please!" He sobbed. "Please I just want to go home! Please just let me go...!" Another shadow moved in front of him, getting closer to him. "Please don't hurt me... Please..." Gregory begged. "I just want to go home... I just-"

The bag over his head was ripped off, and the teen couldn't stop the horror from playing across his battered, bleeding features. Standing in front of him was a man that looked so much like him they could pass as brothers. Gregory stared up at the face of his father, Howard Stark, hoping that it was all just some sick twisted nightmare and that he would wake up in the safety of his bed back home, where his annoying baby brother would come bother him and his mother would call them down for breakfast. How he would kill to be able to see them again.

"Dad...?" Gregory's voice broke as he continued to stare at Howard's cold face. "Dad, I just want to go home... Please..." He choked.

Howard touched Gregory's bloodied cheek, rubbing away blood and dirt. "I'm sorry..." He said, looking away and towards the woman behind him.

"Dad, what's going on?" Gregory said as he looked around, blue eyes wide as he finally took notice of his surroundings. Dead cats hung from the ceiling, their blood dripping on the floor. There had to be more than two dozen different cats, all strung up by their feet, eyes wide and throats slit. There were a group of people standing around him, watching, and among them the two that had attacked him in the forest.

The old woman behind Howard began to speak to his father, and now that he heard it more clearly, he recognized the language as Russian. Howard nodded at whatever it was that the woman had said, grabbing a bottle of golden/yellow liquid that smelt an awful lot like gasoline.

"Dad? What are you doing? Who are these people? Where's mom?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Your mother's dead, you know that." Howard said, pain flashing in his eyes. "You killed her, Gregory."

Gregory's eyes widen, a gasp escaping his lips. "What...? Why... why would you say that...? Dad!"

"It's gonna be okay, Greg." Howard said as he removed the cap from the bottle as the old woman began to scream at him. He walked closer to Gregory, grabbing his face in one hand and pouring the gasoline over him with the other. Gregory gasped and screamed, thrashing around and trying to kick Howard away, tears mixed with blood, dirt and gasoline streamed down his cheek. Howard pulled out a lighter as he took a couple steps away from his son.

"Dad! Dad no! Please!" Gregory screamed, thrashing against his restraints.

"I'm sorry, Greg... You'll be in peace now." Howard flicked the lighter, a bright orange and yellow flame ignited, illuminating his face.

Gregory stopped moving, his panicked features changing to that of both anger and amusement. His blue eyes flashed gold as he burst out into a fit of laughter, his voice no longer his own, but held a twist of something dark—something demonic.

"I'm gonna kill you, you piece of shit!" Gregory laughed again, slamming his head back against the wooden pole that he was tied to. "I'm gonna kill you like I killed your whore of a wife!"

Howard frowned, anger making his hand tremble. "I'm sorry son." he said as he dropped the lighter. As it touched the ground, fire burst around them, consuming Gregory's body in seconds. The teen screamed and thrashed, his skin boiling and popping from the heat; his golden eyes piercing a hole in Howard.

"I'll fucking kill you! I'll kill you!" Gregory shrieked as Howard raised the double barrel shotgun, aiming it at his son's head.

"I love you, Gregory." Howard said as he pulled the trigger, Gregory's head exploding from the blast; his body going limp as the flames continued to consume him.


	2. Chapter 1

**Evil Dead**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Tony?"

Tony Stark took a long, deep breath as he gripped the stirring wheel tighter, a frown playing at his lips as he heard the same question again for the tenth time in the last two hours. He glanced over at the gorgeous blonde that he had the privilege of calling his boyfriend and forced a smile on his face. "Steve, I'm fine. Stop asking."

Steve sighed a bit, his worried blue eyes staring out the window as the trees rolled by. "You keep saying that Tony, but I know you can't possibly be okay with this." Steve looked over at Tony, taking in his features. At the age of 24, Tony looked like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. He barely slept, barely ate. His body ran on nothing but alcohol and coffee, and Steve hated it. He loved Tony to death, but he sometimes wished the man would let him help him recover from his past. Tony's brown eyes always betrayed his words though—and right now, Steve could tell that going back to the Stark family cabin was something Tony really didn't want to do.

"Steve. Stop." Tony all but growled out as he gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. "I'm fine."

Steve didn't want to give up though, not when it concerned Tony's well being. "Tony, I know you used to be with this guy—"

"Loki."

"—Loki, and I know it was for a really long time, I get that, I do, but are you sure you're okay? Seeing him after you broke up like that?" Steve asked, turning in his seat to look at Tony, giving his boyfriend his undivided attention.

Tony sighed, running a hand through his brown hair. "Look, I know Loki and I didn't end on good terms, but we were together for almost five years. He helped me through a lot, and I owe him this much." Tony looked over at Steve, finally smiling at him with some honesty. "I'll be fine, Steve."

Steve sighed a bit, dropping the conversation after that. It didn't take long to get to the cabin, and once there, Steve noticed two other cars parked in front of the run down, abandoned wooden cabin. A beautiful red haired woman stood in front of a black convertible, next to a blonde man with sunglasses. Both of them looked highly upset, and the moment they parked the car, the woman was walking towards them. Tony was the first one out of the car, walking around it to meet the woman's violent glare.

"Anthony Stark. Two hours." She hissed, glaring at the short man who was smiling at her, showing off his dimples. "You've been making us wait for two fucking hours."

"Relax Tasha. You should have known I was going to be late. Besides there was traffic." Tony said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders at the woman—Tasha—that wanted nothing more than to stab him in the eye with her stiletto heel.

"Bullshit." She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She heard the car door close and looked pass Tony, finally noticing the tall blonde that had been in the car with him. "Who's that?"

"That is Steve. My boyfriend." Tony said as Steve came to a stop next to him, looking around nervously.

Natasha felt a visible tic in her jaw from how much she wanted to just punch Tony. "Boyfriend? Really?" She snapped, sighing a bit as she ran a hand through her curly hair. The blonde man that had been silent up until that point wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back, though he was much shorter than her due to her heels.

"Tasha, calm down. Go sit." He said, and even though Natasha looked as if sitting was the last thing she wanted to do, she left the three of them alone, not wanting to start a fight. "Hey Tony."

"Clint." Tony nodded his head as a greeting.

Clint smirked a bit and grabbed Tony's arm, pulling him closer so they were hugging.

"Come on, man. You can act like you've actually missed us. It won't kill you." Clint said as he patted Tony's back, having missed his high school buddy.

Tony snorted a bit but hugged Clint back, gripping the man's back before breaking it. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Oh? You have. You've gotten shorter if that's even possible." Clint smirked, and then ducked before Tony could smack him from making a comment about his height. Taking a couple steps back, Clint quickly dashed for Natasha, using her as a shield. It felt good, being able to fall back into old habits so quickly after so many years.

"Tony."

Tony couldn't help the smile that spread over his lips at the voice he had missed these seven years. He turned around to see Bruce walking out of the woods, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, a small smile on his face. "Bruce!" The genius smiled and moved over to him, hugging Bruce tightly. "It's so good to see you." He smiled as he pushed the other away enough to be able to look at his face, seeing his own reflection in Bruce's glasses.

"It's good to see you too, Tony." Bruce smiled at the man. They had been lab partners in chemistry their freshman year and had been inseparable since then. Each year they were always in the same science class, Tony being the smartass and Bruce being the only one that can calm him. "He's waiting for you out back."

Tony's smile fell slightly and he nodded. "And Thor?" He asked, knowing that if Loki was here, Thor was somewhere nearby.

"He's in the woods taking a piss!" Clint called out from behind them. Tony looked back at the couple sitting on the hood of the black convertible, then towards Steve who still looked awkward in this environment.

"Bruce, can you please make sure Tasha and Clint don't kill my boyfriend?" Tony asked his friend as he began making his way to the back of the house. Bruce nodded, heading towards Steve to introduce himself.

Tony hated to admit it but the place looked like shit. The last time he had gone to this cabin he had been five years old, and it had been for Gregory's 15th birthday. He didn't remember much of it, but that was to be expected from a five year old. The woods had all but reclaimed the structure, and he was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea to stay here. The thought didn't last long as he came around back, seeing the grass so high he was sure they could play hide-n-seek in it, and in the middle of the overgrown glass was an old, broken and rusted car that used to belong to Howard. On its hood was Loki, looking exactly how he remembered him.

Loki had always been stunning. A long pale frame; skinny yet muscular. His hair had grown out, pass his shoulders, but still pushed back and still as black as the night. The only thing that seemed different about Loki was his presence. Before just being around Loki Tony felt confident, powerful. Now it was like Loki himself wanted to just curl up into a ball and die. He hadn't been told the story on what had happened to Loki, but from seeing the dark bags under his eyes, his hands shaking and Loki hugging himself as he read a book he must have read about a hundred times already, Tony knew it had been bad.

Hearing a twig snap made Loki's head lift up, taking his gaze away from the pages of Macbeth to look up at the face of his ex-boyfriend. His heart was hammering in his chest as he closed the book slowly, Tony coming to a stop in front of him. Tony Stark had changed since the last time he had seen him. He was taller—not by much—and had grown a beard. It suit him though, which made Loki almost smile. Tony walked with such confidence Loki was sure he didn't feel that it reminded him of the days they used to spend alone in his room, Loki reading a book to him until Tony calmed down from an anxiety attack.

It hurt.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up." Loki said as he set the book down next to him, leaning back; his black sweater was zipped up all the way, leaving nothing exposed except his long pale neck. Tony stared at him for a while, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I thought you were simply going to ditch us again. I must admit, I'm very impressed by your appearance."

"At least your attitude hasn't changed a bit." Tony said as he looked down at Loki, who seemed even smaller than he was; vulnerable.

"Ooh. Did you hit puberty finally? It didn't improve your height." Loki smirked a bit as he noticed Tony's visible twitch. He had always been sensitive about his height.

"Look, I'm not here to fight with you." Tony said, not wanting to start anything with Loki—not after how they ended things. He didn't know if Loki was still mad at him, but by the way he was acting he wouldn't put it pass the other. Tony moved to take a seat next to Loki, moving the book behind its owner. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No." Loki answered without hesitation, looking away from Tony and towards the ground. His black jeans were smeared in dirt almost as if he had been crawling on the ground.

Tony sighed again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Loki, I'm here to help you."

"I don't need your help." Loki snapped, standing off of the car and glaring at Tony. "I never asked for your help. You came here out of pity, Stark. You haven't had contact with me or with anyone in seven years. What makes you think I, or any of us, want to do anything with you?" Loki hissed at him, each word was pure venom. His pale hands were trembling at his side and he had to hug himself to keep calm. His black hair was a mess behind him, the gel he had put in it not working the way it's suppose to.

Tony had been right on one account. Loki was vulnerable and he didn't like it. He was so used to seeing Loki bright and happy—his eyes glowing with mischief and wonder—that seeing him like this, so weak and pale and angry, it broke his heart. "Hey! I'm here now, so suck it up, Reindeer Games." He snapped, standing in front of Loki. Even though Loki towered over him still, he seemed smaller, like all of his energy had been drained out of him. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Loki stayed quiet for what felt like ages. His dull green eyes wide for a few heart beats. Loki dropped his gaze, looking down at the dirt for a couple seconds until he moved closer to Tony, wanting that warmth the other radiated. His chest hurt so bad he wanted to cry. Truth is, he had never gotten over Tony. He had never stopped loving him even though he wanted to hate the genius for leaving him the way he did. Truth was he still loved Tony even after seven years apart because Tony had been the only one who had ever understood him and cared for him.

Loki wanted that back, but he knew he couldn't have it. A part of him knew that Tony had made his own life, with someone new. It had been all over the papers; when Tony Stark turned 21 he had inherited his father's company. Stark Industries was now one of the wealthiest companies in the world. Tony was a billionaire, he was a genius, and Loki was sure that he had someone else in his life—there was no room for him. Not anymore.

That didn't stop the raven from pressing his body against Tony's, gripping the man's shirt so tight that he was sure he was going to tear it. He hid his face in Tony's shoulder, at the crook of his neck and took a deep breath, trying to calm down; his heart pounding a million miles per second. He wanted to believe Tony more than anything. "You promise…?"

Tony was taken aback from the sudden contact. He had been expecting another outburst, but this? Loki clinging to him like he was some sort of life vest? That he had not expected. Loki was shaking so bad that he was sure Loki was going to break. Tony wrapped his arms around Loki's small waist slowly, cautiously, before rubbing down Loki's back. This reminded him of when they were in high school, still together, when he himself had panic attacks so bad that he couldn't breathe and Loki was always there, holding him and soothing him. "What?"

"You promise you won't leave again?" Loki asked softly, his shaking seizing as Tony touched him.

"I promise." Tony answered as he pressed a soft kiss to Loki's forehead. This all seemed odd, but familiar—and good. He didn't want to pull away from Loki. "I promise, Loki. I won't leave."

A comfortable silence fell between them. The only sound around them was the sound of their heart beats and their breathing. No birds, or bugs, or any other living thing surrounded them—not even the wind. It was comforting to be in Tony's arms again; the silence around them only amplified the warmth that Loki felt wrapped in Tony's embrace again. It was nice, until Thor's booming voice called out to them from the front yard.

"Brother!" Thor yelled, louder than the first time. "Brother!"

Loki sighed and pulled away from Tony, rubbing his arms a bit as if trying to keep the warmth there. "We should head back." Before Loki could turn around, Tony grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer again.

"Wait. I got something for you." Tony said as he dug into his pocket, pulling out a long black braided rope necklace. Hanging from a silver hoop was a smooth gray stone, a symbol of the black widow, only turned on its side, was burned onto it.

Loki stared at the stone for a minute before reaching over and taking it. He ran his fingers down the smooth stone, then turned it in his head, reading the familiar symbol again and again. "I thought you didn't believe in these things." He said as he looked up at Tony.

Tony shrugged a bit, grinning at the taller man. "I don't, but you do so I thought it'd give you some luck."

Loki couldn't help the smile that spread over his lips at that. He looked down at the Nordic rune again before slipping the necklace over his head. The stone came to rest over his heart, and he touched it gently again. "Thank you, Stark."

"You're welcome, Princess. Now come on, let's head back before your brother thinks I killed you or something."


	3. Chapter 2

**Evil Dead**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

"Brother! There you are!" Thor's bright, cheerful expression was a welcoming sight and distraction from all the gloom around them; only to have that happy smile fall when the man caught sight of Tony. "Son of Stark. It has been a while."

Tony forced a smile on his lips as he moved over to the tall blonde that could bend him in half and then some. "Hey Point Break. Long time no see. I see you grew a beard. Looks nice." Tony commented as he gradually dragged his eyes up and down Thor's body. "And gained, like, two tons of muscle. Jeez. What do they feed you?" Tony reached out and squeezed one of Thor's biceps slowly, feeling the hard muscle beneath his hands. "Damn. I can break a tooth biting you."

Thor's thunderous laugh was a welcome sound; it warmed the cold, tensed air around them. "I can assure you, Son of Stark, Jane has tried, and no part of her has broken." Thor said, a wide mischievous smirk on his face; Tony could have sworn he heard Loki scoff in disgust.

"You and Jane are still together? Good job, Point Break." Tony grinned brightly, taking a step away from Thor, happy the man wasn't about to pummel him into the ground.

Loki watched from a distance, not daring to move just yet. His emerald eyes lingered on Tony before he broke the gaze, not wanting the other to notice him staring. The familiar faces of his friends brought him little comfort, only the realization of how truly alone he was. These weren't his friends; they were Thor's—they were Tony's. He was the collateral damage they had all picked up after Tony left.

It was then that Loki noticed an extra blonde head in their group. He was tall, muscular, clean shaved and had bright sapphire eyes. He felt the words just spill out of him—as if he had no control over himself what so ever. "Who's your friend, Stark?"

Tony looked up, stopping mid sentence to look at Loki, then back at Steve. He cleared his throat and pointed to the blonde. "Oh. That's Steve. My boyfriend."

Loki froze in his spot, staring Tony for a second before he walked past the group and around the other side of the cabin.

* * *

"Alright. Open up, it's going to start raining soon."

Tony glanced up at the sky as he moved over to the door, trying to find where he put the cabin keys. After Loki had run off without a word, Thor had gone after him; that had been about half an hour ago. He realized he probably shouldn't have brought Steve along for this, but Steve was part of his life now, Loki will just have to deal with it.

"Check your back pocket."

Tony looked up at Steve, who now stood right behind him. Giving the blonde a warm smile, he reached for his back pocket, fishing out an old rusted key. He held it in his hands for a moment before taking a deep breath and moving to unlock the door—only it was already unlocked. Tony frowned a bit, eyes scanning over the door before he pushed it gently; the door creaked opened slowly, a gust of foul air hitting Tony right in the face. Tony pulled his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose as he walked in.

"It was already opened." Tony said as the others walked in after him. "Ugh. Smells like something died in here."

The inside of the cabin looked just as bad as the outside, maybe worse. Every surface was covered in what seemed like three layers of dust and spider webs. The wood was rotten and damp and squeaked every time anyone took a step; a few rays of light filtered in through the shuttered windows.

"Anyone else rethinking staying here?" Clint asked as he looked around. "Or you know, totally creeped out?"

"It's not that bad. It just needs a little remodeling." Steve said as he stood next to Tony, taking in their surroundings. It was pretty bad, but it was nothing they couldn't fix. "And cleaning." He added as he ran a finger over the surface of the coffee table, seeing it come out coated in dust.

Tony ignored the comments as he walked down the hall. He didn't remember this place—or maybe he did; maybe he just repressed it. Nothing seemed familiar. It felt as if he was walking into a stranger's house instead of his own family cabin. Tony reached one of the rooms and gently pushed a door open and stepped inside. This room—his brother's room from what he could tell—was nicely kept, a complete contrast to the living area of the cabin. It was still covered in dust—that was a given—but the wood wasn't rotten, and the damp air didn't seem to gather here. Papers and photographs littered the walls and desks and Tony couldn't help but walk over to it, wanting to see what his brother was like back when he was alive because he couldn't remember. He didn't remember Gregory or Maria. He just remembered Howard, the one person he wished he could forget.

The once white paper were now yellowed with age and stained brown. Tony couldn't make out the words on it, but it seemed like someone spilled something on the paper and just left it there. Tony pushed the papers aside slowly, pulling a black journal from underneath the mess. The journal was barely held together anymore, papers falling out; bugs had eaten their way through the cover and bindings. The genius blew on the surface gently, watching a cloud of dust lift into the air, exposing his brother's name written on the front in neat handwriting. A small smile tugged on Tony's lips as he set it down and opened it to the front page; he didn't have anything of Gregory. Howard had thrown everything that belonged to his brother away without an explanation, so finding this room—this journal—it tore Tony up inside. His chest felt like it was a blender of emotions. He didn't know how he should feel. Happy? Relieved? Sad?

Tony had pushed his brother out of his mind, and now coming face to face with something that belonged to him was like a slap to the face. He missed his family. Closing the journal again, Tony set it aside and turned his attention to the photographs on the wall. Most were ruined because of sun exposure, but there was one that caught his eye. A family picture. Tony moved closer to the wall, grabbing the picture and yanking it free from the thumb tack that held it in place. The photograph showed Howard and Maria laughing, with a teenage boy—Gregory—playing with a little kid—Tony—in the back yard of the cabin.

Tony felt his throat close up at the picture. He didn't remember this; didn't remember ever seeing Howard smile or laugh. He wouldn't even remember his mother's own face if it weren't for the pictures Howard kept around the mansion while he was growing up.

"Tony?"

Tony snapped his head up to look at Steve, who was standing in the doorway with a small frown on his face. "Steve." He said, clearing his throat and putting the photograph down. "What's up?"

"We're going to start cleaning and repairing the cabin before it starts to rain. Do you want to help out?" Steve asked. He had been standing there for the past five minutes, watching all the emotions run across Tony's face like a speeding train. He didn't want to bother Tony, but he had the feeling that the man needed to be around others; if not Tony might actually break down. Steve knew coming here was a bad idea, but it was something they had to do—that Tony had to do.

"Ah." Tony cleared his throat again, not quite feeling like himself anymore. "Ah, yeah. Yeah, I'll help."

* * *

They spent half the day working on the cabin. Steve and Thor worked on all the manual labor of fixing the door and windows and the rest of the cabin. Clint and Natasha worked on the inside of the cabin, fixing anything that happened to be broken, while Bruce and Tony cleaned the whole place. Half way through the repair and cleaning it began to rain, a slight drizzle at first but then it began to storm.

* * *

Loki sat under a tree while the rain fell. He didn't want to go back inside, not yet. The storm wasn't so bad, and the cold rain felt good on his heated skin. He swallowed back every stupid emotion he felt; he had been an idiot to think things would have been different. He had been an idiot to expect anything less from Stark. He had been an idiot to expect it not to hurt so much. But it didn't matter now. He was here to get better, and with or without Tony's help, he would.

Thor had come after him after he left the group and had stayed with him for a while before it began to slightly drizzle. After that his so called brother left to go help the others fix the cabin, leaving Loki alone again. Being alone was one of the things that Loki found solace in now. It relaxed him, and the noise from the cabin made him remember why he was here.

He didn't need a constant reminder; he couldn't forget.

How could he?

"Brother?" Loki opened his eyes to look up at Thor; his wet hair was clinging to his face, his clothes doing the same to his muscular body. "Come inside. You'll catch a cold." Loki stared at his brother for a moment before pushing himself up. "We've finished most of the cleaning and construction. The rest will be finished tomorrow."

Loki didn't say a word as he walked back to the cabin. Once inside he ran a hand through his hair, water droplets falling on the wooden floor. Natasha and Clint were on the couch, sitting in front of a fire to warm them up; Bruce was in the kitchen trying to cook all of them some food while Steve and Tony were somewhere in another part of the cabin.

"Come brother, let's dry you up." Thor said, taking a step towards Loki.

"I do not need your help, Thor. I am not a child." Loki hissed out, narrowing his eyes at Thor and stepping pass him, walking down the hall and to the first door he found, slipping inside and closing the door behind him.

The room was small, with one window and a bed pressed to the side; a small desk parallel to the bed. Other than the furniture, the room was empty. Loki walked towards the window to look outside, frowning a bit as he watched the rain hit the glass for a couple seconds. Turning away from the window he began to peel his wet clothes off, setting it down on the desk until he was shirtless and only in his black jeans. He didn't know where Thor had placed their things, and right now he didn't want to confront him, so Loki sat down and pressed himself against the wall, looking out the window.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Sorry it took so long to update this. I'll do my best to do better but yeah. **

**~KikiHeraShadows**


End file.
